Don't Go Breakin' My Heart
by Tarafina
Summary: Insecurity makes Rachel basically unbearable. Which is why she's wondering how Puck manages to put up with her and what it'll take before he doesn't.


**Title**: Don't Go Breakin' My Heart (I Won't)  
><strong>Category<strong>: Glee  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Drama/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Puck/Rachel  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13/T  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Coarse Language  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 3,211  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Insecurity makes Rachel basically unbearable. Which is why she's wondering how Puck manages to put up with her and what it'll take before he doesn't.

**_Don't Go Breakin' My Heart (I Won't)_**  
>-11-

Rachel didn't know why she'd been doing it except that she wanted to know where his limits were. It seemed that no matter what she did, how crazy she got, he just— He _took _it. And that wasn't how it was before. That wasn't what Finn had done. When Finn felt she was too much, he disappeared. Maybe he didn't break up with her, but it was like he didn't know how to talk her down and he didn't want to be blamed for anything she might do wrong. But when she started getting weird or coming up with schemes, Noah did one of two things; helped her or stopped her. If he thought what she was doing was right or for the greater good, he'd whip out his lock pick and do whatever she asked. But if he thought she was jumping onto the crazy train and couldn't see where the line was anymore, he'd give her a shake and bring her back to reality.

The only reason this was a problem was because she was never sure where she stood with him. What would it take to make him stop loving her? Where were her limits? Was it all building up until one day he just couldn't take it, leaving her when she thought they were perfectly happy? _She didn't know!_ So she'd been fighting with him and being extra high strung and it didn't matter what he did or said, it was wrong.

And now they were arguing again and she was waiting. She was waiting for him to scream that it was enough; that he was done; that he couldn't _do this _anymore.

They're eighteen and in a few months she would be leaving for New York and he got into NYU but were they _ready _for that? Or was he doing it because she'd pushed her dreams and her life on him? Was he going with her because it was what _she _wanted and he just couldn't say no to her? Because some days she wondered how he did it. How he could put up with her. She'd heard what the others had said; she'd read their comments on her MySpace page and seen the pornographic images on the bathroom walls and as much as she put on a strong face, sometimes she caught herself looking at Noah and wondering what he even _saw _in her…

Sure, she had dreams and an incredible voice that would surely get her a Tony one day, but… She was loud and obnoxious and not very pretty. She was pushy and selfish and demanding. She was rude and socially awkward and she had very few friends. In the grand scheme, this did not make her the type of person that people went out of their way to be with. Even her mother, who _yes_, she understood was only _meant _to be a surrogate and never a _true _motherly figure, took one real look at her and said she wasn't good enough or right enough or just—just _enough _in general!

So she was scared that one day, when she least expected it, he'd realize that, and it'd happen just as soon as she let her guard down. Just as soon as she thought, "This is it. _He _is it."

Perhaps it wasn't the most logical reason, but that was why she was yelling at him that he was _destroying _their choreography and if he couldn't get it right then no way Finn was going to get it right, which meant the whole display was just going to be a _mess _and he was going to cost them Nationals and then her senior year was completely ruined and she would forever look back on it in regret.

He was gaping at her, eyes wide, hands in the air like he was asking some higher-power, in his coarse way, '_What the actual fuck?' _And then he was shaking his head. "Did you miss your medication today?" he asked, before backing up and cutting his hands through the air in front of him decisively. "I'm not doing this with you. I'm not gonna be your scapegoat just 'cause you're on your period or whatever. When you're ready to talk like a _normal _person and not blame me for shit that isn't even my fault, then come find me. 'Til then…" He waved two fingers at her, "_Peace_."

He was at the door when her heart caved in. "Wait, Noah…"

He stopped, but his shoulders were tense and he wasn't turning to look at her.

"Where are you going?" she wondered.

His head rolled back on his neck and he sighed. "I swear to fuck, Rachel, if you accuse me of going to hook up with a cheerleader 'cause we're fighting…"

So she'd maybe questioned his fidelity once or twice or a handful of times, but she was _insecure! _He'd had so many beautiful girls and women and she was just… She was just _Rachel_. With her not exactly well-endowed chest and her too big nose and her _average _body and, well… He hadn't been known in the past for his faithfulness to his girlfriends.

"I… I wasn't. I just…"

"You _what?_" he snapped, whirling around to glare at her. "One minute you're crazy pissed, the next you're sad and worried… Legit, you put Quinn's pregnancy hormones to shame!"

She flinched, eyes falling. "I know and I… I'm sorry for that, I've just been so…" She wrung her hands, not sure what to say or how to say it or if it even made _sense_.

"What? What_ are _you?" he asked, staring at her searchingly, genuine confusion wrinkling his forehead. "I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster lately… I never know if you're gonna be happy with me or pissed or what the fuck's going on in that crazy head of yours, so just…" He threw his hands up. "Tell me what it is so we can fix it or…" He trailed off and her throat tightens so painfully, she raises a hand to it.

She tried to speak and failed. She tried again but she couldn't find the words.

And he sighed, his shoulders sagging, his face tightening, before finally he just turned around and walked toward the door again.

The panic rose up so thick she could feel her bones shaking, her skin warring between warm and cold.

"Don't leave Noah," she whispered sadly, brokenly. "Everyone leaves."

He looked back at her and she stared through tear-filled eyes, her brows furrowed, her lips trembling.

"I'm sorry…" she breathed thickly. "I just don't understand why you're still here…" She sniffled. "Why you're _always _here…" She shrugged, holding her hands up. "You've said it more than once, I'm an emotional wreck and I've done nothing but hurt or confuse you these last few weeks and I…" She shook her head. "Why do you _stay?_" she wondered, staring at him searchingly. "I'm not anything _special_. I'm not like Quinn or Santana or any of those women you had intercourse with." Her eyes darted away, feeling her mediocrity to the deepest parts of her heart. "I—I'm _beyond _high maintenance!"

He shook his head, exasperation clear in his face. "I don't _want _Quinn or Santana or anybody else… _Rachel_…" He walked toward her, his boots clomping on the stage floor. "What the hell do I have to do for you to get this?"

She was confused, because she still felt out of the loop. "I don't understand, Noah. I've done _everything _I can to prove to you just how _awful _I can be… Everything I can to show you what your life will be like with me, and you still… Y-You still talk me down from my freak outs an-and you make me go out instead of hiding in my room, practicing until I'm hoarse, and you keep me from insulting people I consider friends but thoughtlessly critique without even realizing it, and you just…" She sniffled. "You're always _there!_"

His brows furrowed. "What's _wrong _with that?"

"Nothing!" she cried. "Until you're _not!_"

He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. "_You're _the one trying to get rid of me!" He walked closer, stabbing his finger in the air. "And newsflash, you might be crazy, but you're not _this _crazy! This is like, epic waves of insanity!" He snorted. "Yeah, you're high strung and you're dramatic and—and I've heard your Tony speech like a bajillion times, but _babe_…" He stopped, staring at her with wide, sincere eyes. "I _like _that shit about you… I like that you get so passionate about things and that you _want _something so badly you'll do _anything _to get it. It's _hot!_"

And she laughed, just a little, because in its very own Noah Puckerman kind of way, that did make sense.

Eyes glittering with unshed tears, she knotted her fingers. "I'm sorry… I really am. I didn't…" She sighed. "It's not that I _wanted _to lose you…" She stared up at him searchingly, her head shaking. "That's the _last _thing I want… I just… Everybody has their limits, Noah." She swallowed tightly. "And with me, I guess…" She shrugged, her shoulders hugged high to her ears. "I—I feel like most people have a very low bar set to how much they can handle of _Rachel Berry_…." She scoffed to herself, bitterness welling inside.

"I know you love me. I—I can _feel _it every time you—you _smile _at me or hold my hand…" Her lips curl in a faint, reminiscent smile. "But… if history has taught me anything it's that eventually the shine fades and those things, those _quirks _that once seemed so loveable about me, they're just… _not _anymore…" She has long accepted this, she thought. And when her shoulders fell back down, drooping now, it was with resignation, depressing as it may have been.

She looked up at him, staring from beneath heavy, tear-dampened lashes. "Now, I know—" She furrowed her brows with intensity, "I _know _that the way I went about this was wrong and confusing, but… I just need to know what it might take for you to… to _leave _me…" She licked her lips and frowned, a little bit of her waiting for a list of character defects or snide remark that _this _was it; all of this was the last straw.

She took a deep breath and let it out shakily, forging ahead. "Because when I look at New York now, when I _dream_, you're there and you're a part of it, but Noah…"

She reached out and gripped his forearm tight, feeling the muscles tense and move beneath her fingertips. And she wished she wasn't having this discussion now; wished instead that she could wrap his arms around her and forget all of her fears and failings. But she couldn't. And she didn't. Because Rachel Berry, whether she was loved or hated by many or few, was no coward and this had been long in coming.

"If you don't want that, if— if you don't think you can _truly _handle everything I am and everything that entails," she turned wide, meaningful eyes up at him, "Then _please_…" She inhaled deeply and stepped back from him, giving both him and herself some space. Her hands were knotted tight in front of her so she wouldn't reach out and keep him from changing his mind, as she had already come to his conclusion for him.

"I don't _want _to lose you. I don't _want _to push you away…" she admitted quietly. "But some part of me _expects _to…" She shook her head. "And I can't— I _won't _force you to be with me if it's not _one hundred _percent what you want too…"

She searched his eyes, his face, even his posture for tell-tale signs of what he was about to say or do. How he would let her down. How he would break it down for her that she was right, maybe she wasn't what he wanted. Everybody else had the right idea before, of leaving before it became too much. She wondered if he would be kind, let her down easy. If he would be _Noah _about the situation and tell her that she would one day find her prince and he was sorry he wasn't it for her. Or if he would be _Puck _and call their whole relationship this last year a farce and that he was going to dump her anyway… And the worst part was that it didn't matter which way he said it, she was still going to hurt to the very edges of her soul. Because as awful as she'd been lately, and as crazy as she'd been acting, the truth of the matter was that she was _in love _with him and losing him would hurt her like nothing else had.

She searched and she waited, but he gave nothing away. Noah Puckerman had long since mastered his poker face.

"You've sent me on tampon runs," he started, holding a finger up.

She wrinkled her nose, remembering how much they'd argued and how in the end, he had called her three times before taking pictures of eleven different brands and sending them all to her phone to pick one from. To which she answered that if he didn't know what kind of tampons she used, how much could he possibly know her? That was a whole new level of arguing, quite unfortunately.

"You color coordinated my bedroom—" He ticked off another finger.

She winced. Apparently, boys did not appreciate a pastel color pattern in their bedroom. Kurt failed to mention that at the time he was helping redecorate…

"_And _my sister's!" And a third finger rose.

Oh, Dani hadn't appreciated that either. So sue her for providing a little more _femininity _to a tom-boy's bedroom… She was only trying to _help!_

"You called me at all hours of the night and made me listen to you sing because you thought your _pitch_ was off."

She bit her lip, dropping her chin apologetically. Okay, so she probably should have given more consideration to the fact that he had an early football practice the next day...

"You asked my mom what size her _wedding _dress was and if she would mind _hemming _it for you!"

She cringed. Admittedly, that was a little much. Especially when his mother began bawling on her shoulder, asked her three times if she was knocked up, and then started designing wedding invitations…

"You made me listen to Liza Minnelli and Barbra Streisand every morning before school for a _week!_" His eyes widened irritably.

She didn't know why he was complaining about _that_; she was just trying to broaden his music palette.

"And _then_, you screwed up my radio, so now the only stations I get are techno and shitty pop songs!"

Well, really, his 'don't touch the radio, _ever_' rule was rather arbitrary. If she had to ride in that monstrous truck every day to and from school, shouldn't she get a choice in the music too? It only seemed fair.

"You yelled at me every time I so much as _waved _at another girl! You _constantly _accused me of cheating on you! _And_, you got into a cat fight with Santana because you thought she was trying to get back with me, which, by the way, was still totally hot, but, uh, news flash, babe, she's hot for _boobs!_" He waved his hands around, staring at her in a 'duh' fashion.

While Rachel knew Santana and Brittany had been very much invested in one another, she couldn't help some lingering suspicion… And Santana had been very brazen in the past and subject to changing her sexual partner quite frequently, so it wasn't _completely _unlikely.

"And I've run out of _fingers_, but there's a hell of a lot more!" he told her, nodding.

"I know," she agreed. "I have been…" She drew a deep breath. "In the not entirely _wrong _description of Santana Lopez, 'a complete and total crazy bitch' to you…." She nodded, lips pursed. "So I won't…" Her mouth wobbled. "I won't be _surprised _if you—"

"Don't," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "Don't start your, 'Just leave me already, I've been expecting it,' bull, okay?" He walked toward her, his jaw ticking. "Because all that stuff… All that screwed up, out of your mind, bullshit…? It was whack. _Way _whack…" He nodded meaningfully, his hands wrapping warmly around her hips. With a sigh, he licked his lips and she had to arch her head back to see his face better now that his body, warm and firm as it was, was pressed tight to hers. "But there's a _reason _I stuck with you through it, Rachel… And it's not just 'cause you have killer legs or an awesome voice or that you'll be blowing Broadway and New York away…" He stared at her searchingly. "It's 'cause you're my girl and I want it to stay that way… I _wanna _be the guy in the front row with the pansy-ass roses, cheering you on…" He shrugged. "I wanna have your dreams _with _you…"

Her heart skipped a beat and jumped up to lodge in her throat. "_Really?_" she asked.

He smirked. "'Course…" His brow cocked. "I just want it to be with the girl I fell for and not her crazy ass twin that plays all these weird head games…"

She swallowed tightly and nodded. "No, yes, I…" She waved a hand before letting it fall to cradle his bicep lovingly. "Crazy twin is gone, I promise."

He grinned. "Good." He squeezed her hips before sliding his hands around to the small of her back. "'Cause regular you is about as much crazy as I can handle."

She rolled her eyes lightly. "Flattering, Noah, _really_…"

He chuckled. "So you're done? Being all insecure and shit?"

Rachel smiled, genuinely and brightly for the first time in what felt like far too long. "I can't promise I'm completely secure… I might have days when I question myself…" She nodded knowingly. "_But_… when it comes to you… Yes. I'm done being insecure about our relationship."

"Good." He swatted her butt affectionately and then turned, hugging her close at his side, snug against him. "Then we can skip this lame ass dance rehearsal and go home and make out, right?"

Her brow furrowed. "You mean make _up_, don't you?"

He shrugged. "Sure. That too."

Scoffing lightly, she wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed. "Then yes." Rolling her eyes, she amended, "On _both _accounts."

It wasn't perfect, and neurotic was practically her middle name, especially around competition time, but she'd come to realize that while her methods were far more involved than necessary, her and Noah's relationship did have the staying power she was desperately hoping it would have. And years down the line, in a New York synagogue surrounded by friends and family, when he further proved all those old fears of abandonment completely wrong, she knew that all of her broken hearts had been worth it, if only to have this deeper understanding of what it felt like to be truly and wholly loved by the right person.

[**End.**]


End file.
